


Bucky vs. the Future

by Rainne



Series: Bucky vs. the 21st Century [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: Bucky's cyborg arm, DUM-E is a shit name for a sentient being and U isn't much better, Gen, Tony's lab, Tony's robots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 04:42:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19369915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainne/pseuds/Rainne
Summary: Bucky gives Tony a look inside his arm.





	Bucky vs. the Future

About a week before Halloween, Bucky sneaked into Tony’s workshop (with JARVIS’s help) and took a picture of himself in an Iron Man helmet with a gauntlet on his left hand. _What do you think, guys?_ he asked his followers. _Does it “suit” me? (_ _◕_ _ᴗ_ _◕✿_ _)_

When Tony saw the picture, he responded with a backhanded invitation to visit the workshop “when I’m actually there, you asshole.”

Bucky decided to take him up on the offer, however backhanded it may have been, and showed up on a random Thursday afternoon. “So hey,” he said casually as he strolled in. Then, over the music, he shouted, “SO HEY, I HEARD YOU WANTED TO LOOK AT MY ARM.”

The music shut off immediately and Tony’s face lit up with an unholy glee. “Hell yes, I want to look at the arm. Get over here.” He grabbed a wheeled stool at one of his workbenches and gestured to another one for Bucky.

Bucky sat down and wheeled himself over, slinging his arm up onto the workbench. “What do you want to see first?”

“How do you open it up?” Tony asked. “I wanna see the insides.”

Bucky looked around the workbench at the scattered tools. “You got anything like a lockpick set?”

“Of course I do,” Tony replied. “DUM-E! Locksmith tools!”

There was a beep from across the room and the sound of metal items being thrown around, and then a mechanical arm on wheels came rolling in their direction. It was topped by a video camera, and Bucky blinked at it when it turned its claw, giving every indication that it was studying Bucky in return. “Holy shit,” Bucky said. “That’s a real robot.”

“Yes, it is,” Tony replied. “DUM-E, give the tools to the nice cyborg.”

There was another long moment of contemplation from the robot before it extended its claw. Bucky reached up to grip the packet of tools and the claw released them. “Thanks,” he said. Then, to Tony, “What’s his real name?”

“DUM-E,” Tony replied, pointing out where it was stenciled on the robot's chassis.

“That’s kinda mean,” Bucky observed. “How’d you like it if everyone called you Jackass all the time?”

“Like that’s any different from the stuff they _do_ call me?” Tony pointed out. Then he waved a hand at Bucky’s arm. “Open up.”

Laughing, Bucky took a slender tool from the locksmithing set and slipped it between two of the plates on his arm, touching a catch and causing the whole top of the forearm to slide back. “There you go,” he said.

Tony bent down to get a look inside the arm, and Bucky turned his attention to DUM-E, who was hanging around, his arm extended, looking over Tony’s shoulder. Bucky grinned. “You like what you see?”

“Oh yeah,” Tony replied. “This is amazing engineering.”

“Wasn’t talking to you,” Bucky said, reaching up to touch DUM-E’s arm. “Your robot here is pretty cool.”

“My robot is much more than cool. He is a marvel of postmodern engineering. He is literally ten years beyond state-of-the-art.”

“Does he talk?” Bucky wanted to know. DUM-E made a few affirmative whirring noises.

“He beeps a lot,” Tony mused, picking up a slender glass rod to prod at something inside Bucky’s arm. “Can you feel that?”

“No, none of the insides have any sensation,” Bucky replied. “They had to weld sometimes, and it can be hard to do that when your subject is screaming and punching.”

Tony paused in his motions, glancing up at Bucky. He knew full well what Bucky had been through - or, at least, had read the words on paper. He knew what Bucky was not saying as much as what the actual words were that he’d spoken. And he let it go.

Bucky looked around the workshop as Tony fiddled inside his arm, watching as a second robot made its way around the room, apparently working on something. “What’s that other one called?”

“U,” Tony said.

“Creative,” Bucky murmured.

“In my defense, I was drunk.”

“That ain’t much of a defense.” Bucky shook his head, continuing to look around. “You know, your pops promised us flying cars. Guess he didn’t deliver.”

“No,” Tony agreed. Modestly, he added, “But then, my father was not half the genius I am.”

“Oh, yeah?” Bucky drawled. “Then where’s my fuckin’ flying car, genius?”


End file.
